The Truth Revealed
by Believe-to-Achieve
Summary: (Modern AU) She's a big dreamer. He'd do anything for her. But when circumstances change, and their destinies go opposite ways, she must start off fresh. Years have past and his love for her grew. But he never expressed it and now it's too late. Join them on their journey of loss, betrayal and ultimately finding hope as they learn that they can achieve anything if they believe.
1. Chapter 1: Her

**_Her_**

The harsh slam of the door echoed throughout the hollow house. I used to be left in a shock and cringe at it, but now I don't. And I hate the fact that it doesn't scare me now. The first time I got used to something unusual was when he was whispering his affection to me. I was uncomfortable at first by his silly romantic ways, but I got used to it. It never ceased to make me blush full of happiness. Now it faded into screams with disgust etched in his voice, the one that used to soothe me through my rough moments. It drives me crazy to how I got used to his yelling, which happens more than our moments filled with love for each other. Now that I think about it, we don't have those moments anymore. My throat tightened as I let my sadness spill out of me. Before I met him, I was strong and confident, never letting my feelings get the best of me. He made me weak. I did fall for him, and I thought it wasn't weakness that he taught me; it was how to love. I'm not sure what I did learn with my time with him. I shook the thought out of my head, not wanting to make me much more broken than I am now. Every second ticking away at the clock, it just breaks me more. It's like a hammer destroying my vulnerable heart, as vulnerable as glass is to the hammer. I need to end this. I sped down the stairs and hesitantly grabbed a note pad and a pen that writes in blue ink, which lay across the translucent coffee table placed in the center of our living room. I plopped down on the nearest sofa and began to compose my letter. I wrote to him, planning on leaving it with my simple yet beautiful wedding dress, a picture of our first date in a silver frame, our marriage contract protected in a binder and most of all my beloved wedding band, with all of them packed in one large box that was meant for family keepsakes. The note reads,

_I am sorry about my stubbornness that caused our fight earlier and for the many other times we did. I do love you and our children and I would give up anything just to have one moment with you. I still would gladly lay down my life without hesitation for you and our children. The reason that I left is because we are different than before. To me, you seem like you don't see me as the most precious thing in the world anymore, acting like I don't deserve you, whom really I don't because I never did anything to deserve your selfless, caring love. I am convinced that maybe I'm not reaching your expectations that you have of me and because of that, my insecurities are coming back, the ones that say that I am not pretty, or brave, or kind, or a great mother. You used to say it was nothing, that I am perfect they way I am, that you would never change me, that I was the only girl that you see and that all of my insecurities weren't true, but now I don't know what you think. My first theory of love was right, that love does hurt you in the end. It all changed when I met you. You have made me soft and caring, and to see the beauty in this world. You have taught me that people deserve a second chance, and to know how to forgive. Well, I don't deserve another chance, because I kept on making the same mistake, and it would probably be my thousandth chance. I don't know how you have put up with me and how you have forgiven me on so many occasions. I am doing this because I just didn't want to get hurt anymore and especially not to hurt you more than I already have. I hope this gives you half the pain than what I expect that you will receive, and half the pain you would get if we kept on going on like this. I wouldn't give away what we had, even if it was for the whole world; it seemed like a dream to me, a dream too good to be true. And now it is too good to be true. I hope that you find someone that will make you happy, even though you said that I am the only woman that does, but I disagree to what you believe. I just make you suffer. I'm just trying to save you from hurting more. Goodbye._

I was so cruel that I didn't even end it with the word love; I just left him there. I didn't check it over again for perfection, unlike what I used to do with my notes filled with my devotion that I used to make. Those days are gone. I folded it up, scribbled my name over the cover, and left it beside my most prized possessions from my romantic life before. They were all organized on the coffee table where he can find it first thing in the morning. I could imagine his horrific tantrum once he finds this. He'll only remember how much he needs me when I'm gone. Maybe that would be true, if he has any love left for me in his heart. If only he'll be brave enough to leave his bed to check what I had made on the couch and not mope around… He will be a better parent than me, if I was left alone. It was dark and gloomy outside, the weather matching for what I am feeling right now. I feel so empty now, just like the inside of a box, like the surprising box he presented to me with a shimmering ring inside. That day, he kneeled right in front of me, at the tree we met at, and had this prolonged speech about his adoration for me and it was our death that we did part, that made me undeserving. Where did his love go? Now that box is full, full of my ring that I left behind. I wish I could be filled up with kindness and happiness, like what the ring is doing to the box. But, it's too late for that now. I try to indulge my focus on some insignificant item nearby, but it's no use. Tears started to blur my vision as I slipped on my hoodie and rushed out the door, packed up suitcase in hand, not knowing where to go. I scanned the area around me, to look for by watchers, but the streets where empty, in the middle of the night, just like what I feel. The pouring rain is covering my tears falling down my face, which are coming down as hard as the rain is. Similar to my vision, my mind is also a blur; I don't know if I should glance back, forget about everything and run into his arms, begging for his forgiveness of every despicable moment we had shared, because I had blissful memories with him, or I should keep moving on because of the fresh, new memories that poisoned my mind… I thought my last goodbye would be when one of us dies. For once in a long time, I am agreeing with him.

_Like he said: **IT WAS A LIE.**_


	2. Chapter 2: Him

**_Him _**

I woke up because I felt something rapidly shaking my body. I notice the light beaming through the crystal clear window, slightly covered with the cotton orange drapes. They were like the sunset. As I gain consciousness, I make out two figures hovering above me. Then, I notice the feeling of a set of small, stubby hands and a set of bony, long-fingered hands. I shift around, glancing at the clock that tells me it's late in the afternoon. My body groggily sits itself up, leaning my back against the headboard. What do my children want now? My eyes adjust and I notice the fear and concern reflecting in their eyes. I barely see that look. My wife and I have always given them the best life that we can give them, the best education, the best living space and they especially never yearned for love. Close family members and friends who would do anything for our children's happiness, always surrounded them. I have only seen it twice, once when there were ear splitting bombing noises taking place outdoors and when a mortified friend of mine that came knocking down our door. I really mean _knocking it down._

"What is it?" I mumbled.

Both of them took a short glance at each other, and then looked back at me with a pained look visible in their eyes that tears my heart. I would do anything to take that look away.

"Where did mommy go?"

They both spoke in unison. Their eyes started to water, and I am sure mine did too. After my two children finished speaking, memories of last night come flooding back to me. How I slammed our bedroom door shut, keeping both of us separated. Really, it was just a door in-between us, plus an added few feet, but it felt that it was miles keeping us separated, and different galaxies apart. I was not much of a morning person, always the last to get up, except I ignored that fact right now and focused on what was a million-times more important.

_Where is she?_

I threw off the sheets of the bed, not caring where it lied right now. If I weren't worried right now, it would be funny that a neat freak like me did an action like that. My legs sped down the hallways of our compartment, with her name frantically called out from my lips, not even a few seconds separated from the next time I shouted out. I tried the two bathrooms, the kitchen, and our children's bedroom, even the puny closet at the corner of our house. My results were fruitless. To everyone else, my voice was the loudest sound at this current moment. To me, I can only hear the rapid beating of my heart, which vibrated throughout my entire body. I checked in every single room, not missing a single detail and rummaged in there. I was a maniac, just like a vicious, starving animal hunting down its prey. Every time I didn't find her, every time my conclusions were vain, my hope wore out. Little by little it did. I was left breathless from my search, and now I have checked almost every, single room except…

_The living room!_

Once I finished those last three words, I was already there. My heart sunk at the sight. Scratch that, because that was an understatement. There were no words for what emotions were going through me. Step by step, I walked over to the couch and the mysterious box. At the time I reached my destination, an unwanted but needed destination, I then took the lid with my trembling hands and slowly uncovered the box. The first item that my eyes met caught me off-guard.

_It was the framed photo of our first date._

At first I was giddy at the thought that she planned something special, and the feeling became stronger as I searched through the box and found other memoirs that were highly prized, but I found a folded sheet of paper with her name sketched all over the top. I took it and opened it up and I didn't expect to see what she has written and made for me. I read the letter, never leaving one word unnoticed, and then my muscles tensed up at the very last word…

_Goodbye_

I immediately checked the back to see if there was anything else that she wrote, but I was left with a blank, untouched side. Exactly like that side of the paper, my mind was blank. I couldn't process the sorrowful weeping of children behind me.

_Physically and emotionally, **MY WORLD BECAME DARK.**_


	3. Chapter 3: Her

**_Her _**

I sat on the soft velvet cushions there, on the train I boarded literally on the last minute, with my face void of emotion as I leaned my head against my right side and stared out the window. There I see were faint and unclear figures of the buildings as the train darted by the foggy visions. I have been here for a day now. It's been a day since the _incident._ I didn't want to, but my thoughts always went back to the inevitable. Everything reminded me of him: The flower set on my table that was the exact one he gave as he congratulated me on my victory; I never failed to notice the flush pink color that tinted his cheeks as I asked him that he never did this with others. Also the orange sunset, fading into a darker shade as it sets across the horizon. Beautiful. It was his favorite color. He used to describe it that its beauty mesmerized him. What made me much guiltier was that the sunset reminded him of me; my beauty, on the inside and out, always fascinated him. The mother being over-protective of her child located a few seats in front of me. I was reminded how together, him and I, we tried to gain peace in this cruel, sadistic world. Most of our brave, courageous, selfless friends joined in too. They didn't want all the glory coming to me, especially that I was some icon to the public. My husband and I did everything in our power that our children did not live the harsh life that we lived through. The innocent don't deserve to experience the pain.

Now the consequences of what I have done impact me like a flood washed over me; a huge amount came all of a sudden.

_I left._

_I promised him that I'd stay, but I didn't keep it._

_I left him._

But, this time, my actions weren't just in the heat of the moment. They were regret building up in me over time. Still, I know I could have handled this better.

_Or can I?_

I was never really the one who faced dreadful situations head on. I was a coward and ran away to hide until someone fixed the problem for me. There only two reasons that I would face a problem.

One, I would do it if I was forced.

Two, I would especially do it for family.

Except, in this current circumstance, this was about family. This is so confusing.

I groaned out loud, maybe much too loud because of the snapping heads and glares heading toward me, because of what I had to deal with eventually. With my head wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn't notice the presence of a person, anxiously waiting beside me.

"Anything to dine on for this evening ma'am?"

That high-pitched, singsongy voice caught my attention. I recognized it. I probably recognized it too well. My head took itself off of the window, straitened my frame, and then my head steadily rotated around. My gaze went up and met the face I knew for my whole childhood. Her eyes were a pretty, light, crystal emerald shade. She held soft, ivory skin and silky hair flowed out of her head. Not just that, she was the top five percent of our class and had a kind, selfless personality. She was a full package. All boys were drawn to her, but she never used that advantage. She always told me that she was waiting, waiting for the right one. Me, on the other hand, had dull navy eyes, tangled and frizzy hair, and had a dark, olive skin tone. I did study and did succeed, but wasn't open to many people, only people who I trusted and who were close to me. Back then I was desperate for someone to love me intimately. My friend here said she wanted me to be in her position. Not because of the long list of suitors available with a snap of a finger, but the reason that I'll think exactly like her. She wanted me to wait for the right one. 'Ha!' I scoff to myself. 'Yep. You chose your _right one_ and look where that choice got you now.' I instantaneously remember that my friend is standing there.

"Hey. It's you," I muttered, wondering why she was here and dreading the thought of her asking me why _I _was_ here. _A successful person like her wouldn't occupy a job like this.

"Hmm. You don't seem so happy that I'm standing on this very spot," she teased in a chirpy tune, "We were best friends for our entire lives."

"Wouldn't trade anything for a single second of it," I replied. Her response was a tender smile and she came down embraced me tightly. "By the way, we aren't best friends."

Her face falls and she averts her pretty eyes to the floor. They started to become glassy. After all these years, she still doesn't know I like to tease her?

I say confidently, "We are sisters at heart."

After finishing my declaration for our friendly relationship, she grins from ear to ear and giggles. That same old giggle is still there. It warms my heart. Even when my day never went well, that giggle would enlighten my spirit, which was hard to do.

_He did that too._

Nope. I won't let that get the best of myself. Our whole lifetime, she has been able to sense what I am thinking about. Back to the beginning of our friendship, after one week that we met the other, she knew me like she memorized a book. I can't let her know yet why I left.

I switch my emotions swiftly, from bitter and distressed to untroubled and carefree. I beam back at her and she calls an assistant to take her place. The other woman arrives fairly quickly and my companion joins me by sitting in the cushions across from where I am sitting at.

"Why are you here? Aren't you a landscape architect? That takes in a lot of money. Plus, you plan weddings as a hobby. Why would you need a third job?" I finally let the questions out that I have been holding inside.

She lets out an exasperated sigh.

"My cousin had something '_important_'," she emphasized the word important, "to attend and I didn't want her to lose the only job she had, so… you can guess the rest." She uses her hands to signal herself as the result of her cousin not coming to work. Her hands wave all over her prim, attendant outfit to gesture that she had to take her cousin's job.

"Okay then," is all I can answer.

The next topic she questions about is the moment I've been dreading ever since I reunited with her.

"The real question is: Why are _you _here?"

A million possible answers come to mind. I could maybe tell a white lie… something believable, very easy. I could also wiggle my way out by taking on a different subject for us to discuss about. She was prodigy in academics, but was too gullible when it came to fooling her. I can make her believe me.

_Yay! Here I was being a coward again. Great job for trying not to be!_

After a long debate going on in my head, I decide to tell her the truth. She gasps, when I finish, and tells me that it was out of my character to do that. I nod solemnly, not knowing how else to respond.

There were a few moments of quiet, awkward tension in the air, only noises coming from the passengers around us, and the screeching of the train wheels, before she speaks out of the blue.

"If you have nowhere to go, just stay at my apartment. It's nothing big and fancy, but it's not shabby. I'm content with it."

I was about to agree but she interrupts with her speaking, "You know me. I'm a designer. I design all sorts of things from the land, to interior areas, to clothes and even my own plates!"

Artistic ways was always something everyone noticed about her, if you've been going around with her for a while. She was drawn to it, ever since I've met her. She would always make my outfits for everything that we did and she even designed my home. Not that I regret it. It was a very… what's the right word... interesting experience, but it was amusing also. I got a good laugh at it too.

I once again try to nod my head and was never interrupted. She leaned over and enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug.

Her face contorts in bewilderment, when she tries to remember what she had to tell me, and then in an instant, the expression on her face changes once she remembers.

Her voice was hurried, "There's someone living with me, someone you know. I'm telling you now, so you won't be surprised."

Before I can question whom this mystery person living in her house is, the train halts to a stop. You can hear the screeches of the wheels and both of us lunge forward, the cause of inertia. The ding of the speaker comes on and a monotonous drone fills the room, informing us of what stop we are at and the safety precautions. I carefully stand up, with my friend helping me, and I grab my suitcase from the storage area that lies above our heads. Once I have it, the zip of the handle occurs when I pull it out. My friend leads the way and I follow her, with my suitcase rolling behind me. I soon figure out that our destination is the parking lot and I remember that I don't have to follow my original plan of going to take a bus, since I already have a ride. We eventually get to her car, which was glimmering with water from the rainfall and the moonlight reflecting off of it.

She takes my suitcase to the trunk and I take a seat beside the driver's. After fixing the trunk to make room, she joins me and buckles herself up. The keys are needed to start it up, so I guess that's what she's rummaging through her purse for. Ultimately, she has it but in the outcome, she dropped a few items that scattered around her feet. Okay, maybe more than a few. Also in the outcome, the act created a very troubled girl next to me.

An exasperated sigh was let out, afterward a hand picking it up and placing it in her purse.

That was an understatement.

She was violently tossing the items into it.

Out of boredom, I twiddled my fingers, noticing the familiar and comforting weight of my wedding band missing from my ring finger. Soon, she was finished from her task and I heard the rumble of the engine starting up.

My eyes started to droop and I found myself hard to keep up. I let the world fade away.

I woke up from a piercing screech of a voice and jumped up from my seat without delay. I had forgotten about my belt, so a painful groan escaped my lips as the seat belt forcefully pulled me back. I undid the belt and got up, while clutching the area where the impact was at its worst.

While I limply made my way to the door, I noticed a shadow of a person with a strong build inside the apartment I am supposed to be at. Reaching the front of the door, I inhaled a deep breath, preparing my self for the challenges that may come, and pressed the doorbell. A brief chime resonated through the domain.

The door swung open and the face of my friend did not greet me. No, it was _he _who answered_. _He smirked at his effect on me; probably I am wearing a mask of shock on me.

_He _was the one who I once loved.

_He _was the one who I left before.

But, get this.

_He is not the father of my children. **He is the complete opposite.**_


	4. Chapter 4: Him

**_Him_ **

In the cold, frosty night, with the ebony sky void of any dotted stars and the moon completely covered by the dull clouds, I sat outside on our front porch without a second in the world that my thoughts trailed off from her.

My mind always thought:

How long will she be gone?

Even if we were separated caused by our bickering, and that we weren't on great terms, I still missed her.

I missed her gleaming smile.

I missed how her face glows every time I surprised her with a multitude of pecks each morning.

Even the things that she sees as "imperfections" like her impulsiveness or her confident but stubborn attitude, I wanted it all back.

And what hurts me the most is that she never got to know that. After all these years, I never spoke one about it, not even a single peep. I wasn't the one up for words, not for politics; I'm the kind who takes action. She left thinking that she was just like a second choice, like she was just what I was left with and she was better than having nobody.

No, I could never even survive without her near, that half of me was missing if I wasn't with her, that I was dying inside at this moment, never getting to know if she went through some sort of agonizing and painful incident.

I have my children.

Yes I do have them, but there's conflict with that.

One, I think having them reminds me I have something, some reason to live on, but looking at them makes me think about her and my heart aches even more.

What would I do if she comes back?

_If_ she comes back.

I used to have so much hope that I used to think, _When, when will she come back?_ But time has passed and over that, _what_ morphed into _if._

The next day, I went to volunteer at a daycare, the some one that I enrolled my youngest child at, my son. Most of my extra time from when I am not doing my job is used with helping out there. My daughter's academy is located a block down from here, so she came along on the same path as me. I watched her as she entered the building, then I walked through the glass doors and was bombarded with many drawings of crayon drawn, no scribbled, by the kids who visit the childcare center. The receptionist greeted me as I signed in, tap noises coming from my fingers patting the touch-screen computer. I entered in the four-digit password and made my way to the toddler's room. There, I joined the group of children and welcomed by the cheering toddlers with many of them stumbling over each other. All of them gripped onto my legs so tightly that I couldn't move. I chuckled out loud, loving the fact that even though I live in the same house as him, my son shoved everyone out of his way just so he can be the one to hug me. I picked him up and twirled him around, like it wasn't two hours ago that he was eating breakfast with his sister and me. With a grunt, I set him down to the ground and he whimpered with the exhilarating sensation gone.

I usually stay longer, helping out with the kids' studies or packing away loose toys scattered around the room, but I took an unexpected call from the detective agency I work for. They need me, as a detective, to report to them immediately.

The instructors excused me so I made a quick goodbye to everyone. The door was gently closed then I went in an all-out sprint.

I made it at the station fairly quickly meeting the face of the Chief. She was in her late forties wearing a stone-strait face and a slight scowl. She had jet-black hair and starting to gain some gray streaks in it too. I formally addressed the Chief with respect and eventually both of us made our way to the meeting room.

We both sat on the long and narrow table, me on one side, and she on the other. She stared into me with a strait face, but for some reason I can sense there is hesitation. Her statement started, "Well, I have news to report to you about. I don't know how you'd take it but-"

I cut her off pleadingly, "Please, with all due respect, but don't beat around the bush. Just get to the main point."

With no room for argument, "We may have tracked the whereabouts of your wife."

One sentence. It takes one sentence to change my insight on things.

_When she comes back._

By now I have practically jumped to my feet and toppled over her. I have to use everything in my power to not shake the Chief senseless just so I can win back the solution to my unanswered questions.

"Agent!" She scolded in a professional air, "Even though we have developed a rather stable friendship over the years of your employment, I still rank a higher level than you."

To my surprise I gave a slight and somber nod, backed down, but didn't reign in my ranting.

"Where?" I asked, almost in a timid whisper. I was scared, scared to know what things that may dramatically change in just a few coming words.

"You have stated that she doesn't drive and that she never takes long walks, only when she has to. That would lead us to suspecting that she would take the train. You said that your quarrel of yours took place five nights ago around seven. We looked at the departing trains within a five-hour radius and their security footage. Train ninety-six matched the description of what she wore that night, her coat and her suitcase. She later met a young woman who seemed to be known to her. Both of them left at the last departure. It's 686 miles down from here. City of United Nations."

Just a fragment of information gives me a sliver of hope. Most of the tension chained in my body is released and I slump back into the chair used for interrogating suspects.

Her addition to what she had said before cut my train of thoughts. "I see that this is a difficult case, but I also see that you are well, stubbornly loyal to her as she is to you. Do you accept?"

She obviously read my mind since she already started handing out instructions before I gave a response.

"You go down the hallway that leads to my office. Inside, there is another room adjacent to my desk. There is a drive located in the second drawer down from the safe. This drive holds all the files and the surveillance tapes on the train she took."

I did as she told me, following to the script. Holding it tightly inside my hands, afraid if I loosen the grip this would all disappear away from me, the information and the hope, I scurried back to my office. There, as I left it last time, everything was completely in line and organized. Sitting atop my mahogany desk was a laptop so that I could take it home if I needed to, a file separator that I don't need because everything is computerized in this generation, plus the one thing that sticks out in my eyes.

It's a photo of my family; my family that I have with _her._

I picked the cherished frame up carefully like it was as valuable as jewels and gold is to a millionaire or religion is to a saint. It _was_ valuable to me. With the ends of my fingertips, I traced the faces of my dearest children.

I spoke in a hushed tone, "Mommy's almost coming home."

It's been two weeks since I was assigned to the case of my wife and little progress has been made. Still, I haven't lost hope because this is my only chance at getting her back.

_It's my only chance at rekindling the fire we had. It's this or her never knowing how much she meant to me._

I'm not just doing this for myself, but also for my daughter and son.

Who's going to stay with them until they sleep?

Who's going to even out my playfulness with their own calm of mind and serenity?

Who's going to tickle them awake on birthdays, special holidays or maybe everyday?

Who's going to slightly scold them for their wronging ways, but still forgive them easily?

Who's going to hold them tightly when their fears do come true or comfort them through their own hardships?

Who is going to be that image of a _mother_, a loving and instinctually protective one? (In that case, I might say, an overprotective one.)

They need her almost as much as I do, because without her they wouldn't be here to this very day.

A tired exhale was let out as I carelessly threw the papers onto the desk, them scattering across. I collapsed into the cushioned chair that if it weren't cushioned, my backside would be bruised by now. I thought about this situation, while I pinched the tips of my eyebrows together in frustration.

All of a sudden, when my guard was down, a cadet came in a whirlwind. The entrance doors shot open so forcefully that it nearly broke down.

"Chief needs you to report back in Command immediately after this message," the cadet spoke in a salute, tired and breathless but trying not to show it.

I did as he told and went there in a rush.

Once I reached there, the Chief was facing the main set of monitors. She must have heard me come in because her reaction was to turn around and face me. The room is small and usually crowded, but now the only people are the Chief and two body guards. Including me, of course. Weird, she never needs them; especially that she has proven she could protect herself. Not that anybody doubted her.

"Sit," she declared without a hint of emotion traced in her voice. I sat into the chair closest to her that she motioned me to earlier. My jittering hands folded together as I listened with full concentration.

"As you know, about two decades ago you were in the nation's rebellion against their main Capitol, weren't you?"

She obviously knows this information, but it is stated in the rules that we have to clarify every bit of information we think we know. I gave an indication that I did agree to the fact.

"Well, for those past years there was a secret society that gathered hidden underground. They were a few of the Capitol's most loyal recruits. They'd do anything for the sake of it. So back to the case, they've been planning to it back. To threaten and start chaos they bombed a nearby city."

I questioned, confused, "How does this concern me?"

This took me by surprise.

"The Capitol is requesting you to go as a combatant agent. You would go undercover to find out more about the plan and possibly go into the front lines."

Now, I was curious. Something like this hasn't happen in a while. But I still feel like

"Unfortunately, you would need to quit your current case."

Before I can process anything, I feel two pairs of strong built arms covered in cashmere black sleeves. My body is pinned down against the table as I try to free myself with the flailing of my arms and legs. It's no use. She's smart. She knew I would react this way and that's the reason she brought them along. Not for her, but for me. It all clicks now. There's a minuscule pinch into the back of my neck as a fluid fills me up. My tautly drawn muscles relax instantaneously. The syringe is used for restless suspects. Funny, I thought, that I would never need it, especially that making one tiny white lie makes me extremely guilty and I don't do it anymore. She signals them to let go of me, but because they were holding me down with such power, I can still feel the pressure of their hands. I get up and begin my way out.

"What about your children?" She called back. I can actually feel her smirk because she knows she hit a sensitive spot in me. "You said before that you never want them to experience what you have in your childhood years. Are you changing your mind about that?"

I stop in my path and snap around. People seem to see me as a sweet and innocent young man, maybe as an angel in human form, but they don't really know me if I can't get temperamental. I do only for my family sake. They're the only ones I can actually keep my calm. "How dare you!" I growl, quaking full of rage, "You know I would do anything for them! I just can't go into combat; I need to make it back to them and watch them grow up! You can't change my mind on this!"

I begin walking again until she states, "Maybe I can. How about that the bombing was at the City of United Nations."

I feel the full affects of the syringe get to me as I collapse.

_Out of the darkness I hear her say, **"Send him in."**_


	5. Chapter 5: Her

**_Her_**

_"Seafood," he announces out of the blue. We were at the meadow, the sun burning above us at its highest peak, birds chirping sweet natural music, flowers in full bloom scattering wonderful splashes of bright colors across the field; everything seemed heavenly at that moment. I was sprawled on my back, in contact with the feathery touch of the tall grass. Before he caught my attention, I was in the middle of creating a flower crown. If I were to choose one moment to freeze and live in for eternity, this would be it._

_I mirror his words, "Seafood."_

_"You want some?"_

_"Oh, you're asking me?" I was taken aback. He was the type who constantly repeats 'save, save, save' over and over with everything and calculating every cent left in his balance before swiping his card. Oh, and to be like him, I calculate it would take hmm… fifteen minutes before paying for a one-dollar-a-dozen portable tissue pack. His income was rather stable and he has enough to live off of for the next five years. Still, when he was younger, he took on a difficult, unstable living, plus for him watching and understanding the hard labor his parents had, and it's just become a habit for him to 'save, save, save'. He fixes up his own meals, repairs his own broken items (even if he completely doesn't know what he's doing), sews his own clothing and tries to be efficient with old items to turn into something he could use. He made a mini-shelf out of a box that was used to hold a microwave oven. It was a heavy-duty cardboard. Just add some designed duct tape and voila! You have yourself a shelf. I scoffed at first when I heard about it, but it has been three years and it still looks the same, as it was when it was first made. _

_He must have taken my silence as a rejection, because he starts to stutter as he apologizes._

_"I'm sorry. That was an inconsiderate thing to say. What if you don't like seafood? What if…" He goes on and on with his ranting. His gaze falls down towards his crossed legs and seems rather, crestfallen._

_I slowly bring my hand up to his chin and force him to look at me. "Hey," I try to console, "Sure we can get some."_

_The wariness in his eyes starts to disappear and start to brighten up again. There's the playfulness I know. "Yeah?"_

_I respond, making his words into a statement, "Yeah."_

_His smile grows until it's almost ear-to-ear and I'm sure we're matching twins._

_He pushes himself off the ground and lends a helping hand to help me up._

_"What a gentleman," I tease in a lighthearted way. He humorously bows and I follow along in this little game we both are playing, giving a curtsy. We both chuckle while we move along._

_"You could win a debate competition with that talent," I say as both of us are trotting down the hill._

_He stops in the middle of our walk and pushes, "And what makes you say that?"_

_I imitate him in a tone that kind of matches his; "I'm going to spend three hours listing the pros and cons of the use of buying cheap bows for presents! Lets see here…"_

_"That was one time okay! Who are you to generalize?"_

_"Yeah, one time on debating on whether to buy bows or not," I mock in a sarcastic voice, "I believe that was one of the __**shorter**__ times we waited at the register."_

_He rascally shoves me, but to taunt him, I purposely compel myself to fall. His demeanor changes from being gleeful as concern washes all over his features. _

_Just like before, he lends me a helping hand, yet I make it look like I'm about to grab it. At the last second, I yank him towards the ground and make a run for it. _

_As I'm running, I whip my head around and yell back, "I got the last joke! Ha!"_

_During the time he's rising from the grass bed, he cracks up at this._

_But I stop._

_I stop running._

_I stop running, because I notice something._

_Something that the word beautiful underplays what I saw._

_I was transfixed on his eyes, his smile and undoubtedly his untroubled perspective in life. If I was attracted by recognizing one of them at different times, what more could it do, when all factors are clashed together?_

_His eyes: bright and filled with curiosity and compassion._

_His smile: lopsided but genuine._

_His easy-going ways: he could be in the middle of a war and still find the bright side of things._

_I didn't realize I was staring until he snapped me out of it. "Are you okay?"_

_To him, it seemed like I was staring off into the far distance, probably was now, but I'm just lost in thought and staring off at where he originally fell at because of my joke, exactly at the point where I was caught gawking at his facial profile._

_My cheeks reddened, the cause of embarrassment just when I replied, "Um, yeah. Real fine…"_

_He knows that this isn't the time to goad out what I'm hiding inside. He knows it irks me. _

_When he starts to stroll along, leaving a shrug and a look that seems that he's pondering about what happened, I breathe out a sigh of relief. _

_I pick up my pace, catching up to him. He falls in step, leaving me to lead the way. Shouldn't that be him? I observe that he's walking so close to me, that the right side of his arm and the left side of mine are somewhat grazing the other. Lately, he's been doing that and sometimes I find his hand creeping its way towards mine. It only happens when my attention is on something else. But once I raise my attention to him, he immediately extracts it, and for some reason, I feel empty and disappointed._

_After a few minutes of chatting random topics to kill time, we finally make it to the town square. Both of us kept our subject of how our jobs are, before a sound of childish gurgling drew his focus to it. The sound came from behind us and we found out that the sound came from a baby, seems to be around four to seven months old. We both came closer and the child shaking a toy llama rattle stop and stares into us with wide, inquisitive eyes. I turn to him beside me, and what I could see is a look of longing, a look of want. I smile at the child, because something in my heart made me feel all warm and bubbly. The child, guessing it's a girl because of the small, floral dress that seemed to match her cheerful personality, reflected me and mustered up a smile so wide, the two teeth on the bottom jaw and the rest of the gums were being shown off. Her cheeks contained a light, flush, rosy tint, like a cherry blossom. She's as pretty as one too. A fluffy blanket, printed on top of it a lamb, possibly from a children's show, covered her from her hips down, and was tucked on both of her sides. She grabbed for a toy, cradling above her head that was tied to one of the handles and tried to show it to me. She giggled, catching everyone's attention, which surrounded her nearby. The rest of us chuckled, the reaction to the girl's gimmicks._

_I dream of having children, but who would I have them with? I'm not a true charmer, and my only chance now to get someone to like me is to have work done for him. I'm not going that far, crossing that line to have someone. Besides, I want it to be honest and true. I'm no those people who would pay people to be with me or engage a relationship for something back in trade. I'd do it only what I'd be getting back is love. _

_Affectionate, protective, self-sacrificing love._

_"What's her name?" I hear him speak up._

_Both of her parents reply in unison, "Hope."_

_"That's a beautiful name," I sincerely add, "Why did you choose it?" I ask._

_"We chose that name because she did give us hope, both of us coming from a not so well place. She was the reason that we could move on in life, and someone to fight for."_

_I stood there, amazed by how inspiring these two are._

_I wish I could be like them._

_It's starts to get a little chilly, so both parents decide to leave. They say their goodbyes, even the girl giving a small wave and part off. But before they do, we give them our thanks, and they wave it off like it's no big deal._

_They don't know that it is to me._

_They really motivated me into their example._

_We go about to our original plan. Since I grew up in this town for part of my life, I know this place like the palm of my hand, or like a mother knows her child._

_Like a __**mother**__ knows her __**child.**_

_I mentally scold myself for stressing about something that has not progressed farther from just being a dream._

_We soon arrive by the doorstep of the entrance. There were a few tables located in front of the restaurant. They were made from a combination of different metals, and display an intricate design of swirls. The sun was setting, emitting a light that creates a dark pink-purple color on the clouds and the light was becoming dimmer by the minute. As a result of that, the servers have begun to light the petite, milky candles placed in the center of the tables. Beside the candles are roses, one for each table. _

_We go into the building, and are overwhelmed by mixed conversations that we are unable to make out. The lighting is dim and these tables also have candles with roses. The difference is, is that these are made out of mahogany._

_ To my surprise, he already has a reservation made and are seated after five minutes have passed. Our table is a booth beside the window, and the view consists of the town center. People are going around, doing their business and sometimes stop to greet others. Life has become much more happier; people seem more carefree and secure. Before, people feared of the future, the cause of our corrupt government. Today, we are past it, living like it never happened, but we don't forget. We don't forget all those who have sacrificed for us to be here in this position._

_Our waiter comes by and I order Herb Crusted Filet of Salmon with a side of marinated asparagus and creamy mashed potatoes. He who sits across of me asks for what I am having. The waiter looks up to ask for anything else and stares at me, longer than I am confortable with. Then again, I wouldn't be comfortable with any length of time the waiter stares. I look across from me and I see a hint of jealousy in his eyes. No! I must be hallucinating or something in that area. Someone like him could get any girl he wanted, and I'm pretty sure I'm not on the top of the list. But I question, 'Why does he turn down all the others?'_

_The waiter leaves us to be. Before that though, my friend stops him and orders him to do something so quietly that I can't hear. Both of us keep the conversation flowing and the banter lively while we wait for our meals to arrive._

_ In such little time it did, and I was shocked at the little time it took to create this great looking meal. It was a work of art._

_I cut a part off of the salmon and a burst of flavor poured into my mouth. It tasted better than it looked. I take a glance at him and he has a look of approval. I try to resist the urge of shoving the whole entire thing into my mouth, and instead he laughs at my lack of restraint._

_Soon enough we are close to cleaning off our entire plate, a waiter, a lady this time comes with something in her hand that's covered by a draping napkin held by the other. A few other crewmembers follow her along. The waiter sets down the mysterious item before revealing what it is. _

_It turns out to be a little cake that has an elaborate designed flower placed front and center, yet the cake is so simple because of the colors. The flower was a rose, with the colors of blush pink. The rest of the cake had clashing streaks of colors from the lighter side, but the baker made it in a way that looks spectacular. The color combination consists of sunshine gold, blush pink, silky white, and lime green. _

_But none of those elements was the cause of my emotional outburst. It was just one phrase written in script that said 'believe to achieve'._

_I was so focused on it, thinking over and over why I had a surprise like this until I heard singing. Joyous singing. I turned to my side and saw the waiters that came were singing the special themed 'happy birthday' song made for people who celebrate the special occasion at the restaurant. Then I realized,_

_it's my birthday._

_Oh, I get it now. I was all caught up in that maybe he, the one who's __**just a friend**__, did this because he might __**like me**__. I was so wound into the thought that I forgot about my own birthday. Of course he doesn't like me in that way. There's no way he could…_

_"Happy Birthday." He slowly took my hand and grasped it, being much bolder than usual. I thought that if this happened, I would wonder why he took the chance, but I was just staring right there, thinking if this was real, that this would probably fade away if I blinked and I would go back to having my goofy companion. _

_Except, I tried. It didn't work._

_I was going to say something back, except I find him with his back facing me, speaking to the waiter for our check. Then again, I'm not sure what I was going to say; I was planning to wing it._

_He turns around to speak once again, "So, I know you don't like surprises, but I just wanted to see your reaction to all of this."_

_"I liked it." I gaze back into those eyes, not feeling conscious anymore of what he may think, because, and I'm pretty certain, he holds the same feelings._

_He smiles back, not his signature, teeth presenting type, but a softer and gentler smile. I then figure out that it's the same one he gave to the younger girl earlier. _

_He pays the bill, after us debating one more time on who should pay (it's hard not to say yes to his pleading puppy-eyed face) then exit out._

_I see the lights flicker on outside, which reflect beautifully along the spurting geysers from the fountain centered in the town square. Small fireflies light up our path, leading the way. Both of us end up sitting by the edges of the park pond, me crossing my ankles as my legs extend onto the pavement. We placed ourselves earlier on a large boulder that seemed comfortable to sit on, but it's just making my butt freeze into ice. It didn't help that a howling gust came over us, making me shiver more. I don't have a jacket to wear, and he catches me twitching slightly from the cold. His arms wrap around me, cold also, but the gesture, the touch, already warms me up like he is my sun. He guides me, and protects me from the cold and the dark._

_"I never knew you would be good at this 'dating' thing."_

_His face appears from my side, confused. "This is a date?"_

_I blew it… I must look pretty stupid, yet I try to console what I said, but it's already out there._

_"It's fine, I thought of it as a date too."_

_Tensions are broke, me before able to literally cut it with a knife, and I finally give in and lean into him. I never saw myself as one of the people in these kinds of relationships, me making fun of those cheesy romantic movies, but it was heartwarming, changing me by the second._

_And I felt fresh, it's a new beginning, another chance at life to actually live. These past years I've just tried to add days to my life, not life to my days._

_And now, it's the start of something new._

**_12 years later_**

_Screams of instructions filled the room, which is creating my nervous figure worse._

_"Where are the flowers?"_

_"I need water! She can't sweat, because her makeup will smear!"_

_"Who hasn't arrived yet?"_

_"Do we need more room?"_

_"Are the last preparations for the reception complete?"_

_"I need scissors and one yard of lace, STAT!"_

_"I told you not to bring cookies! She will get fatter, and she already did that in the past week!"_

_The yelling soon mixed together; making it sound like a stereo was in the tiny spaced area. It was time for me to intervene, but it made me sound like a hypocrite, since I also screamed. But, it was for the better good._

_"Shut up!" I bellowed, but the women's reaction was to say that I have to be proper and polite. Great, with my war years, I never had time to think about the fashion police, so that would really help me today._

_My mother helped me out and calmed them all down._

_"She is perfect the way she is. Now get out of here!"_

_All of them obeyed, the tiles clinking from the pattering of the shoes and their skirts made it harder for all of them to move out of the slim hallway. They stuck between the doorways, like a ring stuck in a pipe. That happened to me once, yesterday actually. My mother was frantic, because I couldn't possibly lose it for today is an important date._

_Today I would be joined together with another man. The one I love_

_When it was just the two of us, she walked over to the door and closed it, locking it behind._

_I took another look at her, a closer look, and found water pooling at the bottom of the lids; happy tears, I think. It took so long to try to get those out of her, for all these years were hardships lined up at the doorstep of our lives, one following the next. We thought it would never end. _

_"Your father would be proud." She smiled, a sorrowful kind, but she wished to keep me happy for this. Her hand reached out and held it tightly to her chest as she stated, in between light sobs, "He lives in here."_

_And it does feel like he is here. And I finally feel complete._

_And I will be much more complete in a matter of minutes to come._

_I asked for a rather simple wedding, really. Christina, the one who styles all sorts of things, volunteered for decoration duty, and I wouldn't want it any other way. My husband (to be, really, but I was doubtful anything would change my mind) and I we're being married in the garden where we went to after our sort-of first date. Right under the tree where we accidentally slept under. After we came from fits of giggles and laughter from throwing splashes of water at each other, we wanted to go home, but collapsed under the same tree within 5 yards from our last position._

_It was time to go, and I was led through twists and turns of a grand, yet quaint cabin rented for the reception taking place later. I passed other caretakers and planners, Christina seeing me and excusing herself to leave, and many complimented my outfit. _

_I didn't want anything too spectacular, so Christina (yet again) designed it. She made it to match my personality, and it fit to every single detail. The material contained a soft feeling against my skin, and the cuts were made an inch above ground and a v-shaped formation that exposed my collarbone. The straps, thin but not thread-like, crossed right below my lower neck, which reached the middle of my ribs. Since she really couldn't live without layers, could possibly die from the 'simplicity of such doings', added a top that covers only half of my shoulders and ends above my ribcage. The almost transparent item stopped at one-fourth of my entire arm, and had delicate laces in undirected areas that made the contrast of my skin look like something you would see in an art museum. _

_"You look amazing. Scratch that, you __**are **__amazing."_

_I blushed as I replied shyly, "Thanks."_

_"Now, we have to get going. You can miss any other event, but your own wedding!"_

_The world went by a rush after that._

_As soon as we got to the garden, nothing mattered. All the dressed up people suddenly disappeared; the intoxicating smell of the surrounding flowers became muted, and the band playing traditional music became faint. Time slowed down to a standstill and all that was left between Tobias and me were a few steps and lifetime promises._

_As soon as I stood right beside him, I felt __**alive.**_

_We said our vows, promising our whole selves to the other through life and death, through sickness and health. I think we've become close to the record __**many **__times. _

_And I know that I'd still keep that promise no matter what. I know I would still give up my whole life for him._

_But would he still do the same for me?_

I woke up from the darkness that took me in, and the first thing that I registered was a broad figure smiling, no smirking, as it came towards me.

"No please, that's enough," was all I was able to croak out.

"I haven't even started," as he said, forming a larger, malicious smile.

_What to do, what to do? _The only thing to do is to give in.

I lay out, giving my best look and finally complied.

"Now I can be very," he whispered in my ear, "very giving if you obey me." I was too caught up in my thoughts of escaping that I didn't notice a hand graze my side.

**_What have I done?_**


End file.
